Je T'aime
by Fairly Odd New Yorker
Summary: Lefou is comforted by Stanley after witnessing Gaston's death.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N)-** I apologize for all the other fics unattended to, this is just a one-shot for now, may be a two-parter if people want it, sorry for any mistakes esp. with the French, I used Google Translate but idk if I can honestly trust that LOL translations are at the very bottom if you need to reference, but I tried to make it obvious as to their meaning in the story. Enjoy!

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 **J'e'taime**

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Lefou sat, crumpled on the floor, defeated, his eyes staring into the dark abyss where he saw Gaston fall to his death. He should have helped him, he should've saved him … he still had his pistol holstered … he could've slain the Beast, and his friend might still be alive …

He leaned against the windowpane, tears falling down his face as he watched Belle, cradling the Beast … he appeared to be dying … and so he felt justice had been served, perhaps … but why was he not grateful?

A shaky breath swept through him, and he finally turned away from it all, only to curl into a fetal position on the floor and sob openly, clutching his chest.

He heard the rustle of fabric as someone approached, and warm fingers brushed his forehead, moving the loose curls out of his face. He opened his eyes, preparing to scare off anyone who dared approach him in his time of grief, and looked up at his intruder to see …

"… Stanley?"

The young man was kneeling on the floor beside him, his pink and gold dress spilled out all around him. He was wearing a beautiful white wig with curls that fell along his shoulders, and his makeup, well, it might have been flawless, if not for the fact it was being washed away by his own tears.

Stanley said nothing as he tenderly stroked Lefou's hair, and Lefou sighed, too physically and emotionally exhausted to protest. He reached over and clutched the younger mans dress and pulled it over to him to hide his gross sobbing as he wept.

"Mon cher ami," Stanley murmured, tucking his hair behind his ear, "Vous avez fait tout ce que vous pourriez …"

"It wasn't enough!" Lefou cried back, "I should have done more. I saw his decline, early on, I tried to hope he would see the error of his ways … tout pour rien …"

"Tant d'amour … j'ai osé espérer that I might have someone to love me just as much, some day …"

Lefou looked up at Stanley from the folds in the dress, his eyes still cloudy with tears, and Stanley's eyes too were brimming as he stopped stroking his hair and looked away from the fallen man's gaze.

"Aime toi toi-même …" Stanley said firmly, nodding as he shut his eyes, his tears rolling down his face, and repeated, "You must love yourself, even half as much as you loved him. You _deserve_ love."

Lefou rolled back onto his side to face the abyss, his gaze far off.

"Gaston was too blinded by his ego to see the love you had for him, let alone return it. Don't let it die with him."

"Do not speak ill of the dead," Lefou replied darkly, fresh tears rolling down his face and onto the stone floor.

"Pardonne-moi …"

Lefou stared out at the crumbled walkway that Gaston had fallen from, feeling numb from the cold floor or his disbelief and heartache or all of the above. He could never forgive himself. The villagers would surely blame him for his death. Lefou was, after all, Gaston's voice of reason, he should've been enough to save him …

A golden light bloomed from the balcony where he had last seen Belle and the Beast, and it caught his eye. He couldn't make out what was going on, except that when it faded, the sun rose almost instantly, and light poured along the castle walls, repairing and leaving a glistening gleam on everything it touched as it went.

Lefou thought for certain that he was dreaming, or dying. He couldn't believe his eyes.

He could hear laughter from the balcony, and he saw Belle with what appeared to be a young and handsome man, who picked her up and twirled her around.

"Is that the Beast?" Lefou asked himself aloud, dumbstruck.

He was broken out of his thoughts as he felt Stanley's lips press against his brow, firmly, and he let out a gentle gasp, feeling a pang in his heart at the gesture, frozen in shock and unable to face him.

Then the younger man whispered in his ear, "Adieu, mon amour,"

And with a rustle of fabric, the man was gone, leaving Lefou dumbfounded.

"Mon _amour_ …?" Lefou murmured to himself, looking in the direction Stanley had left. Now his heart was broken even more. How long had Stanley felt this way? If Gaston was blinded by his ego, then Lefou must have been blinded by Gaston … he searched his brain for signs that Stanley loved him, but there were none … except for the face he made when he was praising Gaston … but he thought Stanley was just thinking he was silly … Stanley was, after all, a very quiet and reserved man. And Lefou was always rather loud. If there were signs, no doubt he would have missed it.

"Stanley!" Lefou found himself shouting, and he scrambled to his feet, slipping on the stone as he ran, "Stanley, wait!"

Lefou raced out into the hall and towards the stairwell, stopping when he saw the discarded wig on the ground, "Stanley!"

He glimpsed him down on the steps below, and watched in awe, as did Stanley, as the glowing sunlight swept across the walls around him and the dress he wore dissipated before his very eyes, turning into gold dust and sweeping away into the air, revealing his regular clothes underneath.

"Stanley, come back, s'il vous plaît!"

Stanley looked up and met his eyes, which were filled with fear and heartache.

"S'il vous plaît … please, Stanley …" Lefou pleaded, amazed that he still had tears to shed, but this time it wasn't for a love lost, it was a love he never knew he had, and perhaps there was still a chance to save it …

"Don't leave me like this …" Lefou begged, gripping the railing, "Je ne veux pas être seul."

"You _need_ to be alone," Stanley told him, but instead walked towards him, his face riddled with guilt and sympathy, "You need time to grieve."

"I've grieved my whole life away for him," Lefou countered, getting angry now as he slowly descended the steps, afraid if he stormed down he would scare the man off, "Not a tear was shed for me, until you …"

"You're not in a good place right now," Stanley argued, "Ce ne serait pas juste."

"Exactly! It's _not_ right! If you leave right now, I don't know if I'll ever forgive you."

Stanley stopped in place, fidgeting his fingers at his sides as he stood, head bowed to the floor as Lefou approached tentatively. Now faced with his friend, stripped of his gown and wig, he felt stripped of his confidence as well.

"I'm a villain." Stanley admitted, his gaze glued to the floor, "I cannot stay."

"The Beast is alive and well, so it seems," Lefou argued, "You are guiltless."

"I still helped lead them here …"

"And I did nothing to stop it."

"Je t'ai vu, you didn't want to attack them …"

"But I still did _nothing_ ," Lefou reminded, "I am just as guilty as you, more so, even. _Please_."

He daringly tucked his finger and thumb under the younger man's chin, causing him to look into his eyes, his face flushed at the touch.

"Don't make me face them alone," Lefou said softly, and his eyes flickered to Stanley's lips unintentionally and, realizing how close they were, he took a step back, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Ne me faites pas cela," Stanley said quietly, his eyes glassing over.

"Don't do what?" Lefou shrugged innocently.

"This!" Stanley insisted, gesturing wildly between them, "Ne jouez pas à des jeux! Ce ne serait pas juste!"

"I'm not playing games!" Lefou scoffed.

"J'e'taime." Stanley said flatly, shaking his head in annoyance, raising his brow at him, "Comprendre?" he asked impatiently, and annunciated, " _J'e'taime_."

Lefou could only stare back at him in disbelief, his breath caught in his throat and his head was spinning. But then he recalled what Stanley had whispered to him before he took off … _mon amour_ ...

"How long have you felt this way?" Lefou asked finally, genuinely concerned and curious, heartbroken but desperate to know how long his friend had suffered.

"Too long," Stanley mumbled, appearing to be angry with himself, "I cannot recall a time when I didn't …"

"But you hid it so well!" Lefou protested, and gripped his shoulders to give him a light shake, "Why did you say nothing before?"

"You were smitten, it was obvious. How could I compete with the village war hero? And besides, Villeneuve wouldn't take kindly to people like us. I envied you. You were safe to be out because you were his right hand man."

Lefou snorted, "Yes, well, _he_ never knew what I was …"

"It's okay," Stanley assured, "You can say his name."

"I can't," Lefou admitted, looking away, "I'm still so raw … It's so fresh in my mind …"

Stanley nodded in understanding, his long arms carefully wrapping around the smaller man, holding him close, his chin atop his head, "I understand, mon cher ami," he mumbled, "Tu m'as. I won't ever leave you."

They held each other for what felt like an eternity, until voices met their ears.

"What's going on?" Lefou asked through Stanley's scarf, and Stanley lifted his head, looking towards the chatter.

"Je ne sais pas," he shrugged, looking down at Lefou, whose face was still damp from crying and he looked a right mess.

He pressed a kiss to his forehead, briefer than the first time he kissed him and Lefou felt it was more platonic than anything.

"Kiss me again," Lefou breathed, and Stanley obliged with a small smile, kissing him again on his sweaty forehead.

"No, not like _that_ -"

"Non," Stanley replied simply, shaking his head, "Non, you are not well. I do not want you to regret it."

Lefou swallowed hard, and nodded reluctantly, resorting to find comfort by resting his head against his chest, listening to his heart beating.

"We should go," Stanley decided after awhile, "They'll wonder where we are …"

Stanley released Lefou, but took his hand in his and led him down the tower steps and into the light of the courtyard.

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 **(A/N)-** Hope you enjoyed it, if you did PLEASE leave a review! There's a bit more to it but it's still in pieces and I'm not sure if I wanna continue or just leave it as is. So REVIEWWW! translations under the break

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Mon cher ami: My dear friend

Vous avez fait tout ce que vous pourriez: You've done everything you could

tout pour rien: All for nothing

Tant d'amour: So much love

j'ai osé espérer: I dared to hope

Aime toi toi-même: Love yourself

Pardonne-moi: Forgive me

Adieu, mon amour: Farewell, my love

S'il vous plaît: Please

Je ne veux pas être seul: I don't want to be alone

Ce ne serait pas juste: It wouldn't be right

Je t'ai vu: I saw you

Ne me faites pas cela: Do not do this to me

Ne jouez pas à des jeux: Do not play games

J'e'taime: I love you

Comprendre: understand

Tu m'as: you have me

Je ne sais pas: I do not know

non: no


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N)** \- re-posting bc this chapter was way too short and I'm still working on the rest, writer's block sucks, please review and again I'm sorry! :(

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The pair emerged into the sunlight, squinting, and they stepped right into a crowd of people whom they never seen before. They were currently reuniting with the villagers as they poured back into the courtyard, everyone embracing, laughing, kissing one another …

Stanley stood still, his face slack and expressionless, but Lefou could see the fear in his brown eyes as they darted to watch anyone who drifted too close to them. Still, he held Lefou's hand firmly, but close to his side, sandwiching their hands between them so they remained hidden by their coats.

Lefou lifted their hands into view, looking at them as he rubbed his thumb across the back of Stanley's hand gently.

Stanley looked at him, eyes wide, his lips parted slightly.

And then suddenly, Lefou was grabbed up by a curly blonde-haired tea lady, who hugged him tight and caused Stanley to release his hand and back away in half-terror at such an abrupt intrusion.

"My dear, you're all right!" she exclaimed, "I would've fallen and shattered to my death! Jean! Chip!" she called to her husband and son, "This is the lad who saved my life!"

"You're the— the _teapot_?" Lefou asked, confused.

"It's a long story!" she laughed, kissing him on the cheek, "Thank you so much!"

Lefou laughed, overwhelmed with happiness as it seemed just downright contagious, but amidst another embrace he saw Stanley drift away, looking around amongst the crowd.

"Pretty boy!" a voice greeted, and Stanley whipped around.

A woman wearing a grand pastel blue gown and a gold and white wig stood there holding a fluffy dog in her arms, smiling warmly at him. A man wearing a curly crazy-haired white wig, stood beside her, so close as if he was afraid to let her ever leave his sight. He did not recognize who Stanley was, of course, but he still greeted him with a rather toothless smile.

Stanley approached the two, brows raised in confusion as he recognized the woman's voice, "Madame de Garderobe? That was you?" he gasped, he took a deep bow, looking back up at her with the same smile he had when she had dressed him, overcome with amazement to be in the presence of such a world renowned opera singer, "I remember you! I saw you in concert in Paris! Vous étiez incroyable!"

"Grazie, caro," Madame replied, her face glowing with happiness, "But what happened to my beautiful dress I made for you?" she asked.

Stanley blushed, glancing around, but no one else had heard her for they were too preoccupied with their own reunions, "L'enchantment …"

"La maledizione," Madame corrected, her smile fading momentarily, and her husband bowed his head, "No bother, I shall find you another one, pretty boy," she said, cupping his face with her hands and planting a kiss on each cheek before embracing him tightly.

She asked him his name, and introduced him to her husband, Maestro Cadenza, and their dog, FrouFrou, whom she referred to as their baby. She told Stanley to ask for her anytime, that he was welcome at the castle, and that she would be sure to assemble a new dress just for him.

As overjoyed as she was to meet him face to face, as humans, she seemed rather glued to her husband and 'child', and so Stanley politely left them to themselves, and found Lefou again by almost tripping over him, and Lefou caught him in his arms.

Stanley stared at him momentarily and, still starstruck by the former wardrobe, he smiled wistfully at Lefou, looking to his lips … and then reality clicked when someone nearby shouted across the pavilion to another. Clearing his throat, Stanley pulled himself upright, tugging the ends of his vest down as he moved away from Lefou.

"Is everything all right?" Lefou asked, hurt evident in his voice.

"There are _people_ ," Stanley reminded under his breath, looking around as if he wasn't talking to him.

Just then the prince, the former Beast, announced that there would be a ball this afternoon, to celebrate, and that all the villagers were to be invited to attend.

Everyone cheered, and when Stanley looked back over, Lefou was gone.

He caught sight of him walking down the steps towards the gardens, and Stanley went to chase after him, but he was stopped by Tom and Dick.

"There you are!" Tom breathed in relief, "We were wondering where you got off to."

"Good thing those awful clothes disappeared, eh?" Dick said with a grin, nudging Stanley playfully.

"Yes," Stanley replied, laughing nervously, glancing towards Lefou, trying to keep him within his sight, "What a nightmare …"

"Where's Gaston?"

The name brought Stanley back, and he looked at both of his friends somberly before shaking his head, head bowed respectfully, "Il est mort."

They appeared somewhat surprised as they looked to one another, but having been through the war together they seemed quick to accept this news.

"What happened?"

"I didn't see … You would have to ask Lefou," Stanley said, gesturing off in the direction of his friend, and they looked over, "I wouldn't bother him now, though. He needs some time alone."

Tom smiled grimly, and handed him his hat, which he put on quickly, trying to hide the concern etched in his face, before following his friends as they went to greet the forgotten castle staff. Tom stopped in his steps, out of earshot from Dick, and grabbed Stanley's elbow.

"Go after Lefou," he muttered, "You know you want to."

Stanley blushed profusely. He knew his friends knew of his crush on Lefou, or at least Tom did … they didn't quite understand it, but they seemed to accept it, to a degree. Stanley had always thought they thought he was confused, and naive, for he was almost 10 years younger than them. In any case, it was never really a topic of conversation.

"He needs his space," Stanley insisted, his face serious, "Laisser aller."

"He just lost his _friend_ ," Tom countered, gripping his coat collar and insistently pushing him back in the direction of the gardens, "Go to him, boy, or I'll drag you myself."

Stanley huffed, cutting him an annoyed look as he left, but as he turned to walk towards where Lefou had gone, his face softened.

 _"He just lost his friend."_

 _Friend_.

Not lover.

Maybe it hadn't been right, refusing to kiss him. Maybe it was what he needed right now, to snap him out of this.

"Mon dieu, what have I done?" Stanley muttered to himself, his heart breaking at this realization, and his steps quickened, kicking up gravel as he went.

...

Stanley found Lefou sitting on a bench by a fountain, looking forlorn with his cheek against his palm as he twiddled a blade of grass between his thumb and forefinger

Lefou looked up when Stanley approached, and gave a half smile with a disgusted grunt, "Hey, there aren't people here!" he observed as he gestured around the area, bitter and sarcastic, "Is it safe to hold my hand now?"

Stanley rolled his eyes and shook his head, sitting down beside the man. He took off his hat and placed it on Lefou's head, patting it down securely on four sides so that it covered his eyes. Lefou dropped the grass in surprise, but this was not the first time Stanley had done this to him.

"Why do you have to be so … _mélodramatique_?" Stanley exclaimed.

Lefou scoffed, wriggling out from under Stanley's hat as he squeaked, " _Me_?"

"Yes, _you_. Storming off like that … without even a word."

"You're ashamed of me," Lefou admitted finally, taking the hat off and handing it back to Stanley, "I get it, it's _fine_." He said with a shrug, and added in a mumble, "I'm ashamed of me too …"

Stanley sighed, taking the hat back and placing it back on top of Lefou's head, but he was prepared this time, for he put his hands up and leant away from him, "Non! _Arrêtez_!"

" _Vous_ arrêtez!" Stanley shot back, psyching him out by pretending to go one way but went another and managed to get it on his head again, tucking the sides tighter this time over his eyes, "J'ai dit je t'aime! Que veux-tu de plus?"

Lefou grumbled, struggling with Stanley's hat, "I _want_ you to _quit_ putting your damn hat on my head!"

Stanley pulled the hat off of his friend's head with ease, tossing Lefou's curls, and was met with the man's scowling face, to which Stanley smirked.

Lefou snatched Stanley's hat from him, and pulled it over his elaborate curls, "See how you like it!"

Stanley smiled, his eyes hidden beneath the hat, and he heard Lefou let out a snort of laughter, and it pained his heart to realize this was the first time since the whole ordeal.

"You look ridiculous!" he exclaimed, fighting back from bursting into a fit of giggles.

"Monsieur Lefou?" a voice called, and Stanley's smile faded as he peeked out from under his hat to see Maurice approach, looking apprehensive and forlorn.

Maurice met Stanley's eyes, and Stanley could sense his distrust; he was, after all, one of the men who threw him into the asylum cart.

Before Maurice could dismiss him, Stanley stood, adjusting his hat as he made to leave.

Lefou grabbed his arm, pulling him back, and Stanley met his eyes. Those big brown eyes, full of fear and sadness despite the fact he was laughing mere seconds ago.

Lefou didn't have to say a word, and Stanley stayed, but he remained standing, keeping one hand on Lefou's shoulder and the other instinctively on the hilt of his sword.

"I heard what happened. Gaston …" Maurice's eyes lowered and he shook his head, "Despite everything, it's still a shame, how it happened … I want you to know, I don't blame you for his actions."

"Well, you're a fool then …" Lefou muttered, and Stanley gripped his shoulder comfortingly.

"Écoutez-le, s'il vous plaît …" Stanley said under his breath.

"I _am_ listening, and he's wrong. Gaston would be dead if not for me."

Maurice strode towards them, and Stanley's grip tightened on his sword.

"Gaston would not listen to reason. Belle was a testament to that."

"I should've tried harder."

"And you would've been locked up, same as us."

"Why do you care?" Lefou snapped suddenly, "After we left you for dead in the woods?"

Stanley's stomach plummeted at those words, and his grip loosened on his sword, and he swallowed hard as he realized, "That was true? But you said …"

Lefou couldn't meet Stanley's eyes, fresh tears forming, "I'm sorry …"

"Je t'ai défendu … why did you lie?"

Lefou didn't answer, he just sat there on the bench, fiddling his fingers nervously. Stanley felt so sick all of the sudden, recalling last night and how he had stood up, ready to guard Lefou if Maurice came for him … why did Lefou lie? They would've backed him up if he spoke the truth. What would Gaston have done to him if he had? What had he done to him in the past that would cause Lefou to fear him, to lie for him when accused of attempted murder?

"Well, mon ami, you were right …" Stanley nodded, pretending to be busy adjusting his hat as he stood, hiding the tears that were brimming his eyes, "I _am_ ashamed of you."

"Stanley …" Lefou called weakly, but it was too late, he had already turned his heel and stormed off, back to the castle, back to his friends.

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 **(A/N)** \- again I'M SORRY please review I'm working on the rest!

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Vous étiez incroyable: You were incredible!

Grazie, caro: Thank you, dear

L'enchantment: the enchantment

La maledizione: the curse

Il est mort: he is dead

Laisser aller: Let it go

Mon dieu: my God

mélodramatique: melodramatic

Vous arrêtez: you stop

J'ai dit je t'aime!: I said I love you!

Que veux-tu de plus: What more do you want

Je t'ai défendu: I defended you


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N)** \- I'm sorry for this year long delay! please review! I'm trying to finish it

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Lefou stared helplessly at the hedges where he'd last seen Stanley as he took off, and Lefou was left alone with Maurice, he looked to him in confusion.

"Well?"

Lefou's brow furrowed in annoyance through his tears, "Well what?"

"Aren't you going to go after him?"

"Why would I do that?" he spat venomously, readjusting his legs uncomfortably as he sat on the bench, "I don't deserve him … his- his _company_."

Maurice sat down beside Lefou, causing him to flinch.

"You may not have been right, at the start. But do not condemn yourself for your mistakes. You've learned, you've grown. You must forgive yourself, just as I forgive you."

Lefou pinched his eyes shut briefly, struggling to come to terms with this. He envied the residents of the castle for being so forgiving towards their master, having been turned into objects all these years. Meanwhile, he couldn't forgive himself for the actions of his best friend.

"And that Stanley fellow," Maurice added, nodding in the direction that the young man had gone off in, "You must learn to forgive him as well."

"He won't forgive me," Lefou mumbled, fiddling with his handkerchief.

"He's your friend," Maurice reminded, "It's obvious he loves you."

Lefou could feel a blush creep up his neck but he didn't respond, for he knew if he did, he'd stumble over his words and give himself away.

"He may be angry now, but he won't be forever."

"Sometimes a moment lasts forever," Lefou murmured sadly.

Maurice sighed, nodding his head as he threw his arm over the younger man's shoulder, shaking him lightly, "Come, let's go find him."

* * *

"Stanley!" Dick called happily across the courtyard as he saw him approach, "Come meet my sister, Genevieve!"

They were gathered around their horses, presumably getting ready to head back into town. Stanley's triplet cousins, Elise, Eloise, and Eliana, were there as well.

Dick's smile faded when he saw noticed the dark look in Stanley's eyes, and Stanley ignored all of them, mounting his horse, Rosie.

Tom grabbed him by the ankle, "What's wrong? What's happened?"

"I'm going back to town," he said simply, nodding towards his sisters, "Come girls, mother will be sick with worry."

They paid no attention to him, too busy talking with Dick's sister.

Tom snatched Rosie's reins from his hands, "Stanley, _what happened_?"

"Lefou lied." Stanley replied under his breath, "What Maurice claimed in the bar last night was true."

"I figured as much."

"And you said nothing?"

"You know how Gaston is … _was_. Whatever he says, we were bound to stand by his word. Lefou knew his place."

"Then it is our fault. We should've questioned it, stood up for him …" tears started to form in his eyes, "I failed him … Je ne le mérite pas."

"Stan-"

Stanley yanked Rosie's reins from Tom's grip, and Tom's hand fell to Stanley's boot, gripping the heel tight.

"Let me go," Stanley growled through gritted teeth.

"Talk to him."

"Non, Lefou-"

" _Etienne_."

Stanley's eyebrows knitted together slightly in confusion, "Etienne?"  
"That's his real name." Tom said under his breath, "Etienne. Etienne Lefevre."

Stanley's eyes widened slightly as he took in this new information. The next moment, Tom released his grip and Stanley was instead yanked off of his horse from the other side by a pair of arms, and he found himself landing hard into the gravel below, his hat falling off of his head and rolling away as he fell. He fought back, kicking and grappling, as Dick tried to wrestle him into a chokehold. Dick clearly didn't understand the situation, other than coming to the realization that Stanley was attempting to leave and that Tom didn't want him to.

The triplets took notice and yelled at them to cut it out, and soon someone whistled sharply, and Dick released Stanley, who was pulled to his feet by Tom, and a fancy-dressed man with a mustache and white curled wig, similar to Stanley's own hairstyle.

"What's the matter with you two?" The man chastised, "On a day like today!"

Stanley looked up to see Maurice and Lefou … _Etienne_ … standing idly by. By the looks on their faces, he could tell they witnessed the entire thing. Stanley caught his gaze and held it, eyes glassy and filled with shame. Lefou looked as if he were about to cry as well, and he tore his gaze away as Maurice spoke to him.

"Stanley?" A voice called out.

Stanley looked over to see Madame de Garderobe, holding his hat, her gaze hard and concentrated as she marched over to them, holding long intimidating looks with Tom and the other man who seized him, and they both released Stanley.

She gave him back his hat, which he promptly put on his head to hide his eyes, which were now brimming with tears despite himself, and she put her arm around his shoulders, leading him away from all the commotion and into the safety of the castle walls.

* * *

She sat him down in the foyer by the empty fireplace on a small ornate couch, and gripped him by the shoulders. Stanley still kept his eyes hidden under the brim of his hat.

"What was all that about? Rolling about on the ground like that! That is no way for a pretty boy like you to behave!"

Stanley kept his head bowed as she scolded him, still hiding shamefully under his hat.

"And after I just put in a good word for you, too! You're lucky his Majesty didn't see that, but Lumiere would be hard pressed to consider you now."

"Je suis désolé …" Stanley murmured quietly, but still would not raise his eyes.

Madam's soft bronze fingers reached over and grasped him by his stubbled chin, gently making him meet her gaze.

"What is _wrong_ , amico?"

Stanley couldn't help the tears that were now glassing his eyes. He still held the gaze, shamefully, determined to refrain from all out sobbing and collapsing into the lady's arms.

With a heavy sigh, she wrapped him up in her arms, hugging him tight in an embrace as intense and loving as her voice.

"We are all feeling so many emotions today," she excused, "There's no need to hold back, or feel ashamed …"

Ashamed …

Stanley's own words echoed in his head … what he had said to Lefou, that he was ashamed of him for lying … but more than that, he was ashamed of himself. On a day of celebration such as this, where affectionate hugs and kisses would not be questioned … and he was ashamed to even be seen holding his friend's hands …

"I love him so much," Stanley said finally, muffled by Madam's dress, and it opened the floodgates as he sobbed freely, face contorted in pain as he crumpled into almost a fetal position in the woman's arms.

"Who? The man that fell?"

Stanley shook his head vigorously, almost as if he was trying to physically shake the image of his fallen leader from his mind.

"Non, not him …" Stanley dismissed, " _Lefou_."

"The young man who saved Mrs. Potts?"

" _Oui_ …"

"Then why these tears?" she asked incredulously, rubbing his shoulder "He's a selfless hero! You should be happy, to have such good judge-"

" _He_ is a man," Stanley reminded pointedly, glaring at her, "As am I. It is one thing for a man to dress like ..." he couldn't bring himself to even mention the dress she'd thrown on him moments earlier, "let alone ... _be_ with another man. _Romantically_."

"Oh, the simple peasant folk …" Madam chided with a warm smile, "Monsieur, my husband and I have traveled across the world, performing for the rich … in the arts, there are plenty just like you. People are aware of it. They may not approve of it, but they keep their thoughts to themselves. And don't get me started on the rich …"

"But I am not in the arts, and I am not rich," Stanley reminded, "Our village is small, close-minded … I can't be with him. I'll only put him in danger. He's already bound to get retribution for backing Gaston, all of us will! We were so close to him, we could've done something!"

"Don't beat yourself up for what is already been done," she soothed, "Look to the future. Things have a way of working themselves out."

"And now I've ruined a possible position here at the castle, for my behavior," Stanley continued, shaking his head, "I don't know what I'm going to do, but I know I can't go back to the village."

"I'll take care of it, don't you worry. What you need to do right now is tell your friend that you love him."

"I did," Stanley replied numbly, looking away.

"And?"

"He didn't say it back …"

"But did he reject you?"

" _Non_ , but …"

"No buts!" she scolded, "Go, tell him again!"

"I can't!" Stanley protested, "I've hurt him."

"Then apologize! Go!" she shooed, practically pushing him off of the couch excitedly, "I need to speak with Cogsworth. Take care of your business, the longer you wait, the worse off!"

Stanley felt sick to his stomach as he forced himself to hurry away, if only not to receive any more slaps and scoldings from the opera singer. He couldn't bear to look at Lefou again, not after what he'd learned about what he did with Maurice, not after he'd told him he loved him and stormed out on him without bothering to hear his side of the story …

It _was_ Stanley's fault.

He turned the corner, about to head out into the sunlight once more, and he walked headlong into someone. He grabbed their shoulders to regain his balance.

He found himself looking straight into Lefou's glassy eyes.

* * *

( **A/N)** \- I'm sorry it's trash, support my trash and review please! I'm trying like hell to finish

translations!

Je ne le mérite pas - I do not deserve him

Je suis désolé - I'm sorry


End file.
